


Interlude: Pilot

by leonidaslion



Series: Berserker [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, F/M, Spirit Animals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-25
Updated: 2011-01-25
Packaged: 2017-10-15 02:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/155855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/leonidaslion/pseuds/leonidaslion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam wasn’t born yesterday, and he’d actually met Dean before, so he knew that this wasn’t about Dad: not completely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Interlude: Pilot

Sam wasn’t born yesterday, and he’d actually met Dean before, so he knew that this wasn’t about Dad: not completely. He kept eyeing his brother as he drove, catching brief glimpses of Dean’s face as they passed the occasional streetlamp. Dean looked different—older, which Sam had expected, and harder, which Sam had hoped wouldn’t be the case. But there was something else: something in the way Dean held himself. Something wary.

It was on the tip of Sam’s tongue to ask what the hell had happened that had Dean so spooked. He knew it was more than Dad going missing because the man had gone missing before, and the phone call Dean had played back for him didn’t warrant the level of anxiety his brother was radiating. Not an easy thing to catch unless you knew Dean’s tells. Knew what the constant drumming of his fingers on the steering wheel and the humming under his breath meant.

At first Sam hadn't remembered how to decode his brother: somewhere between that rundown motel in Texas and this cool California night, he'd lost the key. But out by the car, when he’d resisted Dean’s pull—even after all those years apart, being around Dean was sort of like standing next to a black hole—Dean had cracked open just enough for Sam to see how desperate his brother was. And then the memories of the tells came flooding back in, and his anger at Dean’s invasion of his life—at the leering comments he'd directed at Jessica—evaporated. Sam caved: let the black hole drag him down.

But more and more he wanted answers. He’d kept quiet for two hours now, sitting in the Impala and letting Dean’s music wash over him. Letting the sensations and sounds settle in his bones and trying not to think about how this felt like coming home. How he suddenly felt like he was twelve again and Dean was taking him out for a late-night drive, proud of his new license and eager for the road in a way Sam had never really understood.

He reached over suddenly and snapped off the radio. Dean scowled at him. “Dude!”

“Why’d you really come?”

A muscle in Dean’s jaw twitched and he tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “I told you: Dad’s in trouble.”

“And that’s it?” Sam prodded.

“That’s a pretty big ‘it’, Sammy,” Dean answered immediately, but his voice was defensive and now Sam knew for sure that something was up. He also knew that it would take nothing short of Chinese water torture to drag the truth out of his brother. He leaned back against his door, narrowing his eyes as he studied Dean. What the hell was different about him? What was Sam missing here?

Dean didn’t look over, but he obviously felt Sam’s scrutiny because he shifted uncomfortably and asked, “Are we done here?” He reached for the radio when Sam didn’t answer and then scowled as Sam blocked the control panel with one hand.

“What’s with the necklace?”

Dean’s entire body went stiff. “What?”

“The necklace. It’s new.” Sam wished that he remembered how to read his brother’s expressions because the face Dean was making right now could have been anywhere from frantic to bored.

Dean’s hand went up and brushed against the bull-horned head resting against his chest. “Oh yeah. It’s a protection charm. Bobby made it for me.”

“I thought you didn’t believe in that crap.”

Dean put his hand back on the wheel and shrugged. “Things change, man.”

 _Yeah, they do,_ Sam thought, and it tasted like regret. But he only snorted. “Yeah, well, it looks like something you dug out of a flea market.”

“Looks can be deceiving,” Dean muttered.

Sam narrowed his eyes, not sure what was hiding in his brother’s tone. “If you have one of those things in your bag for me, I’m not wearing it,” he warned. It was one thing to take a weekend off to try and help find Dad; it was another to start subscribing to that supernatural mojo shit again. And Sam wouldn’t put it past his brother to try hanging any number of ugly protective talismans around his neck: Dean had always been neurotic about his safety.

But Dean only gave a short bray of laughter like Sam had said something funny. “Not gonna be an issue, Sammy.”

Sam slouched down into his seat. Every time Dean called him that, it sent a small shiver of pain through his chest. Memories of other times, other places. Sam hadn’t been ‘Sammy’ to anyone since he’d come to California. Since he’d left Dean and Dad behind. And in the years he’d been away, Sam had managed to convince himself that he didn’t miss them: didn’t need them. But hearing that childish nickname on his brother’s lips now was making him realize that he had: he did. It made him feel lonely and weak and Sam hated it.

He turned his head, watched the night roll past on the other side of the window. This time, when Dean moved to turn the music back on, Sam let him.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dean almost told Sam a thousand times while they were in Jericho. Almost fessed up to the real reason he’d come: didn’t because he knew how it would go over.

 _Dad’s gone because I fucked up and God knows I deserve it, but I can’t do this on my own. Hell, one week alone and I was about two shots away from screwing myself over for good, but I passed out before I could manage to take the damned thing off._

And Sam would look at him, all distant and annoyed, and say, _what the hell are you on, dude?_ Or worse, Dean would look into his brother’s eyes and see pity there.

So Dean kept his mouth shut. Dropped Sam off after a few half-hearted attempts to convince him to keep looking for Dad, as if Dean was stupid enough to do something like that. He knew that Dad was perfectly able to take care of himself. Especially now. The message had been unexpected and vaguely troublesome, but hadn’t really worried Dean.

No, what had worried him was the sensation of drowning. What had terrified him was the way he’d found himself touching the amulet at odd moments, and remembering the wolf with something like longing. The wolf had wanted him. The wolf would never leave him: never hurt him. All Dean had to do in return was give up his humanity, which was looking less and less like any kind of sacrifice at all.

Dad’s message had provided Dean with the excuse he needed to break his long silence and go find Sam: to try one last time to see if he could somehow get his brother back. And for a few days, it had been almost like old times. But Sam had made it clear that he wasn’t coming back, and the brief respite had only made the hollow ache in Dean’s chest more painful by comparison. He watched Sam climb out of the car and felt like he was carving a hole in his ribcage.

Sam leaned in on the window. “You’ll call me if you find him?”

Dean glanced away, hiding the bitter amusement in his eyes. If he found Dad, it would be by accident, and he probably wouldn’t come out of the encounter in one piece. Wouldn’t come out of it strictly human, anyway. But he nodded because his brother expected him to.

“Maybe I can meet up with you later, huh?” Sam offered.

“Yeah, all right,” Dean lied easily.

He could tell Sam didn’t believe him, but his brother didn’t call him on it. Only tapped a farewell on the window ledge and turned to go. Dean hesitated: wanted to drive off before he ripped himself apart any further inside, but couldn’t leave it like that. Couldn’t let the last thing he said to his brother be a lie.

“Sam,” he called. He wasn’t sure if Sam would acknowledge him, but Sam stopped on the walk up to his apartment. Glanced back, inquisitive. Dean made himself smile. “You know we made a hell of a team back there.”

Sam nodded a little. “Yeah.”

And there really wasn’t anything else to say. Dean pulled off before Sam could figure out what he’d been trying to tell him: before he heard the ‘goodbye’ in Dean’s words. He drove around the corner and then stopped, head bowed and hands shaking where they were wrapped around the wheel.

After a few seconds, he realized that his right hand had snuck up and was cradling the amulet. His heart pounded heavily in his chest. _Damn it, Winchester,_ he growled at himself. _Get a grip._ Slowly, he eased his hand loose and dropped it back on the steering wheel. Desperation tasted like ash in his mouth.

Dean turned the car around abruptly and headed back toward Sam’s. He had to warn Sam before he actually did something: had to tell him not to trust Dad if he ever came around. Not to trust Dean if he saw him after this. Because if Dean let the wolf free—and if he’d been seconds away from ripping the amulet off less than a block from his brother, then that was obviously a possibility—he didn’t know what he’d be capable of. Didn’t know if he’d come after Sam.

Maybe Dean didn’t want to see pity or indifference on his brother’s face, but he’d suck it up and deal if it meant Sam would be ready for them. If it meant Sam would be safe. He had the feeling that Sam’s opinion wouldn’t really matter to him much longer anyway. The wolf sure as hell hadn’t seemed to care before.

Dean pulled up in front of his brother’s apartment building and turned the engine off. Glanced out the window and ice-cold terror shot down his back.

There was an orange flicker of flames in Sam’s bedroom window. Shit.

Dean was out of the car in seconds. Was breaking down the door and storming inside and pulling his brother off the bed and shoving him outside.

After, he sat next to Sam on the Impala’s trunk and waited for the firefighters to come, feeling his brother’s presence along his side like the warmth of the sun. He sat and waited and thought about how Jessica had looked the same way Mom always did in his dreams. He sat and waited and watched her burn over and over again in his mind while the wail of sirens rose in the distance.

Dean sat and waited while Sam’s life burned to the ground in front of him, and there was a dark, selfish part of him that was so fucking relieved he had to bite the inside of his mouth to keep from laughing.


End file.
